It Started With A Coffee
by HastaLaVista
Summary: You'd be suprised at what the small gestures can do. - A statement from Wilson sticks in House's subconscious, and the subsequent happenings will change goings-on at Princeton Plainsboro drastically.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer : I dont own anything except the storyline._

_(Hi All - just a few quick notes! Firstly, I am a Huddy. Always have been, always will be. This is most definitely a Huddy story. Secondly, I know next to nothing about medicine, despite knowing exactly what to treat various different illnesses with from watching way too much House. Therefore, this story will contain next to nothing about the medicine itself. And thirdly, this is set in a House world that is essentially season 5 after Cuddy has Rachel, but the whole shenanigan with her hating House for bringing her back to work etc etc doesnt exist. So therefore the desk etc hasnt happened. I may work the desk into the story, I'm not sure yet - I have a rough idea where this is going, but any feedback and suggestions are much appreciated. So anyway, enjoy the first chapter!)_

All was quiet on this particular street in Princeton. People had returned home from dining out, kids had returned home from evenings with friends, and the houses were sleeping. The house of Lisa Cuddy was no exception – Rachel was sleeping soundly in her room, and Cuddy herself was in a deep sleep after a more stressful than usual day at her hospital. She murmured slightly in her sleep and shifted deeper into the pillows.

* * *

Across town in Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, Gregory House was awake, albeit reluctantly. He and his team were deep into a DDX on their current patient, all of them short-tempered, thanks to the unexpected late hour. The debate went on over which procedures could save their patient, or lead to a diagnosis, or end up killing them.

A simultaneous page about the patient seizing again to the whole team had them running out of the office, and left House staring at the whiteboard where he had listed their options. Selecting the most dangerous route, he turned and limped towards his inner office. He was cranky and frustrated, and wanted to sleep, and found it most unfair that their esteemed leader got to sleep when they were scurrying around after an endlessly annoying patient. He sat down behind his desk and propped his legs up on top of it before reaching for the phone with a smirk on his face.

* * *

_"House!" Cuddy spied him sneaking past her office and out of the clinic, and she sprang up and after him._

_"Ah, what a pleasure to see you both," House said, nodding towards Cuddy's chest. She rolled her eyes at him, and pulled him out of the way of the clinic doors._

_"Why are you leaving? God knows how many hours you owe me in here over the past years, let alone today." House pouted like a child, and tilted his head._

_"Well, I was watching your office earlier on, and saw Cameron drop in a file before leaving this dump with the Aussie, and as Cameron is now head of the monkey-shop you call an ER upstairs, she has minions of her own to do the paperwork. Soooo, this must have either been a file containing details of where to meet her later tonight for a secret love tryst, or a patient with symptoms so baffling the geniuses in the ER just could not possibly work it out, so much so that Cameron needs a devilishly handsome diagnostician to swoop in and save the day. I figured that your control-freak ways would prevent you from giving me the case before I had completed my clinic hours, so in answer to your question, I am leaving the clinic for the triple purpose of not doing clinic hours, to get you to chase me down and ask me that very question, so that I could dazzle you with my answer, and to get a vaugely interesting case, and all whilst looking at the stackof files you have there and deciding that THIS is the one I want." House yanked a file out of the several ones Cuddy was holding and opened it in triumph._

_"How did you know that was the one intended for you?" Cuddy questioned. She wasnt suprised by his other deductions, but wanted to know how he had gotten the right file before he vanished off upstairs._

_"Cuddy. You are predictable. You wouldnt have the file too close to the top, as you figure that is too close to the twins to have my hand when I pick out the file, and having it on the bottom is closest to me, which you think I will go for first, cos I'm lazy. You have, or had, five files in your arms. The top three off limits for the boob reason, and the bottom one..blah blah blah. Hence it had to be the fourth. I know you far too well for you to mess with me, Lisa Cuddy!" House waggled his eyebrows at her before turning and making his way out of the clinic, managing to push past seven people in about five steps._

_Cuddy shook her head at House's insane logic, but turned back towards her office with a half-smile on her face over the fact he was right._

* * *

_On the way to see Wilson over his budget report, Cuddy passed House's office in time to see him throw a pen at Kutner. She paused in the hallway, sighed, and went into the differential room._

_"How's the patient doing?" She enquired, only to have House's apparent frustration turn and flow directly at her._

_"How's the PATIENT? Doing just fine. So fine in fact that his symptoms dont add up - we have been here for hours running test after test for anything remotely likely, and we have nothing new to go on. The patient is exactly the same amount of sick he was when you handed him over to me this morning, which incidentally is just the right amount to earn such special, special attention from us, so I think it's your duty to either come over here and do the one thing you would ever be good for and relieve some stress, or get out and leave the real doctors to do the job you pay them for." House turned angrily away from her to study the whiteboard, and Cuddy turned towards the group, who gave her sympathetic looks. Cuddy, used to this from House, merely shook her head at him and gave the team a good luck smile before leaving the room and continuing onto Wilson's office._

* * *

_House looked up from his laptop as Wilson came into his office. After seeing Cuddy heading Wilson's way after leaving his office an hour earlier clutching budget reports, and noticing the nearly empty coffee cup in his hand and the abscence of change in his pocket, he surmised Cuddy had been to see Wilson and told him about what he had said. And Wilson being the gentleman he is, he went and bought them both coffee to catch up on girl-time._

_"How's Cuddy?" Wilson didnt look suprised House knew they had been talking._

_"She's fine. She knows you, House, and isn't going to be insulted by your comments when under stress that easily, but still. You should ease up on her sometimes."_

_"Now why would I do that? Seeing the she-devil shrieking in my face is the best part of my day, she tends to get close enough I can see easier down her top." Wilson sighed, and put his coffee cup in House's bin._

_"If you ever want to stand a chance with her, just try it. Try just not saying something mean or degrading, you'd be suprised at what the small gestures can do. And don't bother saying anything to me now, as it will just be a pointless deflection!" Wilson exited House's office with that sentence, leaving House with his mouth half open to yell something after him, but deciding it wasn't worth the effort. As he looked back down at his laptop, Wilson's words echoed somewhat annoyingly in the back of his mind, decidedly settling in the back of the ever-busy brain of Gregory House._

* * *

_As Cuddy packed up her bag, she considered House's comments towards her earlier in the day. She supposed she should really be offended by his degrading remarks, yet she wasn't. Similar to what House had said even earlier on that day in the clinic, she knew him far too well for him to mess with her that easily, to House's displeasure. She knew he lashed out when under stress, having seen him through the infarction, and countless tough cases that had taken a toll upon him. She knew that their relationship would continue exactly the same no matter what he threw at her, but at that split second in time, she felt a pang of regret at the fact they would never change._

_She locked the office door behind her, and made her way through to the front desk._

_"Can you update me on House's current case please?" She asked of the nurse there. The nurse in question obediently tapped into the computer for a couple of seconds, and informed Cuddy that Foreman had updated the system with a new batch of tests all headed down a new route thirty minutes previously. Cuddy thanked the nurse, and headed out of the doors, pleased that House had seemingly made a breakthrough. She just hoped him and the team wouldn't encounter too many problems that night._

* * *

Cuddy jolted awake at the harsh noise. She lifted her head and looked around blearily to locate where the phone was, and stretched her hand out of the covers to pick it up. She snuggled back down into the covers before hitting the talk button and giving the person on the other end a bleary hello, assuming it was important because of the late hour.

"Evening Cuddles. What are you wearing?" Cuddy let out a half sigh, half groan at hearing House's voice, and sat up a little bit in bed, as she wanted to see him coming if he was in her house in the middle of the night, something he was prone to doing.

"Do you know what time it is House? I'm assuming this isn't overly urgent and could wait until morning, yet you decided to call anyway?"

"You have such a low opinion of me, Cuddy. I just thought I'd ring and check how you were sleeping.."

"House."

"Mistress?"

Cuddy sighed as she sat back in her pillows and listened to House reel off a number of things he wanted to do to the patient. Her medical mind kicked in on automatic over the still sleepy other parts, and she argued with him over a safer alternative that he no doubt knew was the better route to take, yet still decided to bug her over an infinitely more dangerous option.

"House, no! That's the end of it. Do the safer test, and if the patient worsens we can discuss it in the morning. Your idea is crazily dangerous considering the patients history of heart problems, and you will just set off another heart attack with what you want to do. I'll speak to you in the morning."

"But Mom, that's no fun! This case sounded so interesting this morning, but he hasn't really gotten worse!"

"DO IT, House. I'll speak to you in the morning, and so help me if you cause any havoc in the rest of the night I will chain you to a clinic exam room for a week.

"Mmm, bondage. You truly are –"

"Goodnight House." Cuddy said with a tone in her voice that even House recognised as one not to mess with.

"Night Cuddy." They both hung up simultaneously, and both of them set their phones back in the holder, neither of them noticing the small smile on their respective faces. Cuddy glanced at the baby monitor to check it was still on, and House glanced at the clock to check the time, before calculating how long it would take Cuddy to get back to sleep, and mentally setting an alarm for five minutes after that time to pick up the phone again. After all, if he couldn't sleep, then Cuddy shouldn't either, he thought with a smirk.

* * *

Cuddy walked into her office a little later than normal the next morning after allowing herself an extra twenty minutes in bed. House had called her a total of nine times in the night, having a different risky treatment or procedure she would need to authorise on his mind every time, and somehow seeming to know when she had finally drifted off so he could call again and wake her up with various witty comments.

She hung up her coat and scarf on autopilot, and rounded the desk to unpack her bag, and switch on her computer to check her emails. Her hand paused halfway towards the on switch, as her less awake than normal mind finally noticed the steaming hot mug of coffee on her desk. She sat down, looking at the mug incredulously. She shook her head in disbelief as a tiny smile briefly appeared on her face, before being pushed down underneath an administrative mask as her secretary came in with some paperwork she needed Cuddy's sign-off on. Cuddy leant over to take the papers from her, and then turned on her computer, but not before taking a sip of much needed coffee from a signature red mug.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer : I dont own anything except the storyline._

_(Wow, second chapter in under 24 hours. I really enjoy writing this story, but my half term work is suffering greatly because of it. Don't expect another chapter as quickly as this one, but I'll do my best. Enjoy)_

House hated being sick.

As he raised his head from the pillow, the tiny, newborn headache he had felt yesterday evening came roaring back into his skull as a full blown, throbbing adult headache. House slumped back down onto his bed, and was suddenly overcome with a strong wave of nausea. He groaned, and as the sick feeling intensified, he scrambled out of bed, not even bothering to pick up his cane from where it was propped up by his bedside table. He stumbled quickly out of his bedroom and almost collapsed into the bathroom and to the toilet, where he promptly threw up.

Once the nausea had subsided, he slumped back against the wall and looked at his watch. The LED display incessantly blinked 6:23 back at him, and he scowled at it.

House _really_ hated being sick.

* * *

Cuddy glanced over at the clock as she got out of the shower, and, satisfied with the way her morning was going so far, she allowed herself to simply sit and drink her cup of tea while feeding Rachel for a couple of minutes. She had about an hour to get to the hospital, and she already had everything prepared she would need that day. Her mind drifted off to her tasks she had to do – a lunchtime meeting with a potential donor, a couple of issues she needed to clear up around the hospital and the weekly Board meeting. All in all, Cuddy felt her day was going to be_ good. _All these things she could do half asleep and with one hand tied behind her back, and she knew it.

* * *

"House?" Wilson spoke into the phone, surprised at receiving a call from his friend.

"Don't sound so shocked Wilson, I call you all the time."

"Yes, but not at quarter to seven in the morning! Are you sick or something?" Wilson smirked to himself at his joke as he selected what tie to wear that day.

"Yup." Wilson paused, his hand hovering over a new mauve tie.

"Seriously? What did you do?"

"Why must you assume it's always my fault? I'm actually sick, a genuine illness, not a self inflicted injury. It's just gonna be one of the 24 hour ones, but I have a killer headache and I've already thrown up three times today, so I'm just ringing to tell you to pass on the message I'm actually sick to the she-devil when she come sniffing, and not to come knocking round here."

Wilson could hear the weariness in House's voice, and could tell he was genuine, despite the usual Housian sarcastic comments.

"OK House. I'll tell Cuddy when I see her. Why don't _you _just call her though?"

"Are you kidding? Hearing the high pitched screeching of the devils daughter is the last thing I need right now to ease the nausea. In fact, bathroom trip number four is going to be happening any sec-" Wilson heard a crash and then the dial tone echoed in his ear, and he flipped the phone shut with a sigh. He looked back towards his ties, and pulled out the mauve one. As he put it on, he wondered if Cuddy would actually believe House was sick. He remembered the time when House was consulting with the CIA and she hadn't believed it, as it was so unlikely. House skiving off work was in itself so usual it was practically insignificant, but Cuddy always demanded a reason, and House actually being sick would definitely not sound likely to Cuddy's ears.

* * *

Cuddy breezed back into her office after exiting the conference room. Her day had gone so smoothly it felt almost too good to be true – she even had had time to call the nanny and have a decent conversation about how Rachel was doing that day. She sat down behind her desk and looked at her inbox – only a few papers lay there needing her attention, and she pulled them out and onto her desk. A few signatures later and she was done, and she sat back in her chair, leaning over to place the forms in her outbox.

She glanced towards her clock, and seeing it was almost now late afternoon, her mind whizzed back over the day to double check anything she may have missed around the hospital. As she thought, one issue popped into her mind, as it normally did every time she thought about goings-on at the hospital. House. No sightings of him all day, and she had had too good a day to escape House's notice and for him to seize an opportunity to ruin it. She normally saw him at least once a day, whether it was limping down a corridor with his team, sleeping in the clinic, or bursting into her office. This silence was unusual, and remembering she had seen Wilson earlier talking to a patient, she got up and made her way out of her office to pay the fourth floor a visit.

* * *

Wilson was at his desk filling in a patient discharge form when somebody knocked on his door, and opened it without waiting for an answer. Without looking up he knew it would be Cuddy – only two people in the hospital would come into his office without waiting for approval, and one of them didn't even have the decency to knock first. Looking up, he saw Cuddy shutting the door behind her, and he surmised she did have the right to come in when she pleased. It was her hospital, after all.

"Hey. You alright?" Wilson knew what Cuddy would be here for, but thought a few pleasantries wouldn't go amiss.

"Where is House?" Wilson sighed, and sat back in his chair. Apparently not.

"I just walked by his office and none of the team are there apart from Thirteen, and she told me nobody has seen House all day, and they have a case waiting for him. Where is he?"

"He's out sick." Cuddy raised her eyebrows at him, and Wilson raised his right back. "Honestly! He called me this morning to tell me, and ended the call by practically falling into the bathroom to be sick."

"Right, I haven't heard that one before. Honestly, I'll believe it when I see it. Where is he?" Wilson replied by digging in his coat pocket to retrieve his keys, and unhooked one of them to hand it to Cuddy.

"What's this?" She enquired, taking the key and examining it.

"House's apartment key. You said you wanted to see it to believe it, so off you go." Wilson grinned at her, and Cuddy gave him a half hearted grin in return.

"You do realise you can't call my bluff on this. I will go over there, and if he is there with some hooker or two or ten bottles of scotch, both your heads will be on the line." Wilson shrugged, confident for once that House was indeed in the right. Cuddy turned to the door and opened it, but looked back at him.

"Last chance to confess?" She jokingly enquired, and Wilson laughed and gestured her on. Cuddy rolled her eyes at him and shut the door behind her. As she walked over to the elevator and pressed the button, she looked at the key she held. She wasn't joking when she told Wilson she _would_ check up on House – she was determined to catch him out for once. As the doors opened and a couple of people walked out, she got in and pressed the button for the ground floor, trying to ignore the part of her that said she was going over to his apartment to comfort him if he _was_ actually sick.

* * *

Cuddy let herself into the darkened apartment, stashing Wilson's key safely in her jeans pocket. She had gone home to change after leaving the hospital, wanting the comfort of denim and cotton for once, rather than her tight work clothes. She looked around curiously, scanning for any signs of life, or a clue to what House was doing. She took off her coat and slipped her bag from her shoulder, heading to place them on the coffee table, and as she rounded the sofa, she was greeted with a sight she had seen countless times before, but never quite like this.

House was asleep. He was curled onto the sofa under a blanket, his breaths slow and steady but a little scratchy. His face showed discomfort even in his sleep, and she could see now that Wilson hadn't been kidding - House was actually having a sick day, rather than a "hooker" day or a "vicodin" day. She gently placed her stuff down on the table and headed towards the kitchen to make him a glass of water. As she filled the glass, she was struck by the irony of the situation. Here she was, making House a drink. The coffee he had left her last week had gone unmentioned by the both of them, and they had gone about their daily interactions as normal. Cuddy shut off the tap and studied the glass of water, knowing it was stupid to be thinking like this. It was a coffee, not a proposal. It was such a small gesture, but somehow it had made a difference to her. Mulling this over, she made her way back to the sofa and put the water down on the table.

She placed her hand on House's head, just at the side of his forehead. House grunted slightly, and turned his head into the warmth of her hand, shifting in his sleep. She smiled down at him, the childish side of her imagining whipping out her phone and taking a picture of him in this vulnerable position, then forwarding it to her entire phonebook. She pushed aside the urge and perched herself on the edge of the coffee table, while transferring her hand to House's shoulder.

"House?" She spoke his name loud enough to wake him, but soft and quiet enough not to startle him out of his sleep. His eyelids fluttered and he grunted quietly, and then his eyes fully opened and scanned the room blearily before coming to settle on her.

"Cuddy?" He said while sitting up slightly, his throat scratching, setting off a coughing fit. Cuddy picked up the glass of water and offered it to him, and he accepted it readily. She watched him drink down a couple of gulps and his chest stop juddering with coughs. He placed the glass back down next to her, and he studied her for a couple of seconds before smirking slightly.

"You didn't believe I was actually sick, did you?" Cuddy sighed, and stood up. She gestured for House to move his legs off the sofa so she could sit down by him, and when he did, she flopped down on the sofa.

"No, I didn't. Happy?" House looked down at her with a half hearted grin. Even while he was huddled down on the sofa and sick, she was still smaller than him. For the first time that day, his mind focused on something other than how sick he felt for a second. He contemplated how such a powerful and confident woman could suddenly appear so petite and plain _reachable _in her jeans and soft pink jumper, and if she was aware his headache had subsided a bit when he woke up and found her there, but he snapped back into the present a second later.

"Well I would be, but the fact I am _really _sick takes the edge of my joy a little bit." Cuddy looked up at him upon hearing his world-weary tone and smirked.

"You really have a high opinion of your little bug don't you? After all the exotic diseases and gross infections you have come across in other people and offer them no sympathy, you expect to be lavished with care when you get a sniffle?" House gazed back at her for a second, but then grinned.

"You got me a glass of water. I think that counts as care, don't you?" He struggled not to laugh as her face changed into a defensive expression, and as she narrowed her eyes at him, a chuckle slipped out. This caused him to start coughing again, and Cuddy couldn't help reaching simultaneously for his shoulder and the glass of water to offer to him again. He swallowed it down, helping the coughs, and then glanced down at her hand which was subconsciously stroking his arm. He looked up at her and smiled.

"See?" Cuddy rolled her eyes at him and got up.

"I'm going to leave now." House just carried on grinning at her in a self-satisfied way, and she shook her head at him before picking up her purse and coat. She turned and headed around the couch towards the door, but was halted by House saying her name. She sighed, and turned back to him.

"What?"

He was twisted around on the sofa to peer over the back at her. "Can you fetch me my cane? It's in the bedroom - I left it there this morning after a rather urgent trip to the bathroom." She studied his face for a second before putting her purse and coat down on the floor and walking resignedly down the hall to his bedroom. She quickly located his cane leaning up near his bed, and turned to head back out again.

She paused in the doorway to glance around the room, her thoughts flying back briefly to that one night in med school. As she stood there, she felt again what she had about a week ago before the coffee incident, a small twist in her gut that came from the man waiting for her in the other room, and how _frustrating _he could be, leaving her coffee one day and being an ass the next, and also how they were here in a setting perfect for something, _anything _to happen, yet it never would. She turned and shut the door behind her, shutting the door on that part of her mind that sat and dreamt of things never to be.

* * *

As House watched Cuddy re-enter his living room and hand him his cane, his mind suddenly dredged up Wilson's words from a week ago."_You'd be surprised at what the small gestures can do._" He watched her avoid his eyes and walk back over to pick up her bag and coat, and he found himself calling her name at her back for the second time in ten minutes. As she turned around to look at him, expecting a comment about how she was a idiotic sap for actually fetching him his cane, he made a split second decision, and what came out of his mouth surprised both him and Cuddy.

"Thanks."

Cuddy gazed back at him in utter confusion, before regaining control of her features and putting in place a smooth mask.

"You're welcome, House. See you at work." House watched her turn and leave, softly shutting the door. He pushed himself up from the sofa, leaning heavily on his cane, and ignored the protest from his leg, head and stomach to limp over to the window. He watched Cuddy climb into her car, and pull away a minute later. He watched the tail lights disappear round the corner, and thought to himself that Wilson's advice may have come through for once.

* * *

"You're welcome, House. See you at work." She turned and headed out of the door, pulling it shut with a soft click. She hurried down the steps and into her car, where she sat gripping the steering wheel for a minute before turning the car on and heading back to her house. In her head a mental whiteboard was set up, and however much she tried to resist picking up the mental marker, she wrote House's name at the top of the board, and drew a line down the middle. She didn't name the columns, but she knew what they represented.

She put two marks on the left hand side of the board.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer : I dont own anything except the storyline._

_Ok, so I'm back. I know its been a while since the last update - crazy crazy work schedule. Not going to get any easier either, but I'll try to update more. This chapter fought me like a bitch though, so hopefully it will be easier from here on out. This was my first time writing an argument!_

_Ok, enjoy. I would really appreciate feedback on the story so far, and any suggestions are most welcome._

_Oh, and this one-shot I read really helped get me into action. Give it a read :) __/s/5786966/1/Perfect#_

Cuddy arrived home from House's apartment in a daze. It was barely seven o'clock and she was exhausted, and felt slightly guilty that she was glad Rachel had had a tiring day and had just dropped off to sleep – all Cuddy wanted to do now was to sit on her sofa with a cup of tea and try not to think too much. She saw the nanny out and locked up, before wandering down into Rachel's room and gazing down at her daughter. As her eyes traced Rachel's tiny features, she suddenly had a wave of sadness – Rachel's life had been complicated enough already, and she didn't want her little girl going off to school and questioning why her family was different to everyone else's. Where was her daddy? Probably doing his homework, Cuddy thought sarcastically, but then reverted back to her original train of thought. A male presence in her life wouldn't be a bad thing by any means, and as her mind drifted again to the infuriating, scruffy man she had just left, a small flame of hope ignited in her chest.

* * *

Two days later, House came back to work. He took the second day off even though his bug had passed – it would be unlike him not to milk everything for what it was worth, and he fully intended to enjoy and remnants of sympathy that came his way that day, even if it was unlikely. As his motorbike roared to life underneath him, and he pulled away from the sidewalk, his mind flashed back to the sympathy he had gotten. There weren't many who would take time out to comfort him, and even though Cuddy had most likely convinced herself she was checking he wasn't just skiving work, House knew her caring side came out for him, and he didn't think he would ever understand why. He had endlessly irritated, criticised and angered her, and she still came through for him. As he flew past the traffic lights just turning red, he considered actually putting some effort into the slight headway he had made with her over the past week and a bit. House pulled up to another light that turned red before he could get by, and as he sat there, he thought that the thought itself was a step far enough for now – admitting to himself that he had always had an interest surrounding the life of Lisa Cuddy was big enough for him to deal with now.

At least until he got to work.

* * *

Cuddy hung up the phone from talking with the pharmacy to see House waltz into the clinic, turn, and promptly barge into her office.

"Did you miss me honey?" House smirked at her as she got up to get some files from her coffee table, rolling her eyes at him in the process.

"I see you made it in on time for once...Oh no look! It's even later than normal. Celebrating something?" She quipped as she sat down on the couch. She was surprised to see House drop down beside her, but covered it quickly and carried on leafing through the papers.

"Yes actually, my miraculous recovery from the painful and unpleasant illness I just battled through," House shot back just as quickly. She turned her head towards him and gave him a "look", to which House just grinned at her, and settled back onto the cushions. Cuddy carried on looking at him for a couple of seconds before House sighed, and muttered "I just came to say hi."

Cuddy blinked, and looked away for a second, fighting to keep the smile off her face. She had been trying to keep her thoughts from straying towards House while he was off, and now it looked like he was back in her life with a vengeance. She looked back up at him to see he had looked away too, and she decided not to push him any more than House allowed – he could retreat from her at any second and at any issue, and Cuddy decidedly didn't want that.

"Oi," she said, poking his leg with her foot. "You can't camp out on my couch all day. Go haul your weight in the clinic for a bit or something while I see if I can find you an interesting but easy case to "ease you back in" after your traumatic experience." She turfed him out of his seat and followed him to the door, where he turned to her, leaned in ever so slightly and said "Slavedriver." Cuddy merely grinned and pushed him gently through the door, through which she saw him actually approach the nurses' station and leaf through a few files before calling someone into exam room 1.

The flame in her chest grew a little bit bigger.

* * *

Clinic duty. A torture that could eliminate even the best of moods in half an hour. The patients that House had seen so far had sucked all the fun out of clinic duty that could possibly be had, and destroyed the relatively good mood that he had been in when he had left Cuddy's office. The obnoxious, the annoying, the stupid, the cocky and the insane had all passed through the shiny glass doors of the clinic, and had all left with the displeasure of Gregory House nipping at their ankles on the way out.

House followed his seventh patient out, who was clutching a prescription and several suggestions about his wife's fidelity to consider. He limped over to the nurses' station to slap down the folder and take another, and as he flipped it open and looked at the age of the girl next on the pile, he sighed. He could already predict what this was going to be about – another crotch swab would return back from the lab showing another endlessly dull STD, and he had had enough. He would treat this patient and then he was leaving – he had shown willingness for Cuddy, and that was enough.

"Tracy Newman?"

The 17 year old blond girl across the clinic's head snapped up, and she quickly shoved her phone in her pocket and grabbed her bag, before making her way over to House, who was observing her critically. All the signs of a sexually overactive teenager were there – the speedy texting back once a message popped up on the screen she had been gazing at in wait, the swagger in her walk, the overdone makeup, the slightly too short skirt and the definitely too low cut top that just screamed inappropriate for a hospital all had "STD" stamped over it. House literally felt his temper shorten at the sight of the gum-chewing girl, and he motioned her into an empty exam room.

* * *

Nurse Brenda looked up at the banging of a door.

"You jackass!" echoed out of the room before a teenage girl stalked out and over to the nurses' station, where she stood breathing heavily for a couple of seconds before spitting out "You employ such...such...agh, just JACKASSES here. Urgh!" Brenda opened her mouth to reply, but the girl was already storming out of the clinic doors. Brenda shut her mouth and turned her gaze over to the open door in time to see one Gregory House emerge out of it with a face like thunder. He limped heavily over to the desk, thrust the file in Brenda's direction, and when she took it, promptly followed the girl out of the clinic doors, but headed over towards the elevators rather than the doors.

Brenda dropped the file on the stack, and flicked her gaze over to Cuddy's office. Cuddy always made a point about wanting to know all of House's antics in the clinic, and she didn't see why today would be any different. Brenda pushed back her chair, stood up, and went to knock on Cuddy's door.

* * *

House limped angrily out of the elevator and down the hall to his office. He could see some of his team in the outer office, but barely paid attention to which members were there. As he threw to door open and it clattered off the wall, he registered Thirteen and Taub startle, and gather a couple of files up before practically running out of the office, probably to shelter in their patients room for a while. He yanked the blinds closed and collapsed into his chair, part of his mind faintly amused by the fact his team were still scared of him. He shut his eyes and tried his hardest to block out the noise of the hospital he could hear echoing out from the corridor. But, all of one minute later, Cuddy threw the door open. House kept his eyes closed, but the frown on his face deepened.

"What do you want, Cuddy?" He asked brashly. Cuddy walked right up to the side of his desk and jabbed him in the chest with her finger, causing him to open his eyes and look at her.

"What I _want_ is for you to actually do your job for once! Every other doctor in this hospital manages to survive clinic duty, and as much as you may argue against it, you ARE human, and therefore the same as the rest of us. Why do you have to do this? That girl was seventeen, House. That's only a few years younger than I was when we met! Why do you have to make them all so ANGRY, cant you jus-"

"For god's sake Cuddy, let it go!" House stood up as fast as his leg would allow to tower over her. His temper had finally snapped – the combination of his vaguely good mood being dragged through the dirt, the plain irritating patients and now Cuddy screeching at him about his behaviour was enough to warrant an unexpected day off for House. Maybe he wasn't quite over his "illness" after all, and would need another day to recover, and if Cuddy would stand in his way then she was going to have to move. "It's nothing I haven't done before, and the patient wasn't even that upset, she just made a remark to the nurses! If you weren't helplessly throwing yourself at me every chance you got we wouldn't even be having this pointless argument right now, so you need to squash that dream of having some man come along and complete your happy-go-lucky life with your new toy waiting at home to wail and spit up on you, cos it won't happen. Not with me, not with anyone. Life sucks, Cuddy, and you need to accept that and get on with your job. That's all I'm _ever_ going to want from you."

Cuddy stared at him for a couple of seconds, fighting to keep her face smooth, before turning and walking out of his office and towards the elevators. She didn't storm away, or flounce out, just walked. As the elevator opened immediately for her and she stepped in without having to wait (thanking some God out there for small miracles), she sighed. She was stupid to have thought House would be willing to change even the slightest for her. So what if they had twenty years of history, positive and negative events swirling together to create their relationship today. That didn't matter in House's eyes. All he was concerned about was his own little island, not letting anyone fully in. Some people were allowed day passes, and others even were permitted longer stays, like Wilson and Stacy, but Cuddy? She was never truly let in. The brief flashes she saw of a different House, the caring, funny and _human _House were always eclipsed by the arrogant jackass who knew exactly where to aim for maximum hurt. As Cuddy rode down to the ground floor, she cursed House's intuition and his genius brain. Yes, she had been feeling the absence of a male figure in hers _and _Rachel's lives – but she wasn't _desperate_ for it. And yes, she had been thinking about him, and she had thought he had been thinking about her too. It was stupid to overreact – this was just House being House, and she shouldn't _care._

* * *

Late on that evening, House jerked awake at his phone vibrating in his pocket. He had fallen asleep on the couch again, and woke with a neck ache. He sat up slowly, and reached for his phone, which promptly stopped vibrating. He had had a brainwave mid-afternoon and had rung in the answer to solve his latest case, so he was confident it wasn't his team ringing. Whoever it was would call again if it was urgent. He stood, and made his way down the hall to his room to go to bed – he was grumpy and tired, and simply could not be bothered with anything else. But after he had changed, turned out the lights and lay down, his mind would not switch off. Cuddy's face kept swimming to the front of his mind, the contrast between her face that day after he had yelled at her and her face from only a few days ago as she shook him gently awake – and as he began to brood, he just hoped what he had done mid-afternoon in a fit of regret, albeit with a Housian touch, would be enough to alleviate whatever effect the words he had thrown in Cuddy's face earlier that day had done.

* * *

Cuddy looked away from the TV down to the baby on her chest, and smiled. Rachel was fast asleep, with a tiny bit of drool coming from her mouth onto Cuddy's top. Cuddy gently eased herself upright, keeping Rachel secure, and turned off the TV. She stood up cradling her baby girl, and for a moment was overwhelmed by how lucky she was to have Rachel in her life now – a constant presence in a life of unpredictability. Cuddy pressed a kiss to Rachel's forehead and made her way down to her bedroom to lay her down in her crib. As she moved over to the door to switch off the overhead light, and she glanced back at Rachel sleeping softly, House's words from earlier about her and Rachel echoed in her head. Cuddy fought off the memory, determined not to tread down that path any further, and shut Rachel's door behind her. She stood there for a second and debated going to bed, regardless of the work she had to get done, but her administrative side won out over her the lazier person in side of her that simply wanted to sleep the day away. Cuddy fetched her bag from where she had dumped it in the hall upon arriving home, and took it into the dining room to spread out her various files into stacks that would need to be either simply signed off on, or more complex issues that would need her to review it thoroughly first. She looked down at all the papers and sighed, deciding she would need a cup of tea before getting started. As the clean-freak in her glanced over the room to find a coaster, her eyes landed on a sheet of paper sticking out of one of the piles, and Cuddy literally froze. She slowly pulled it out of the pile, and as she scanned the simple sheet of paper, her mind stopped working for a second, and then promptly went into overdrive.

_Patient Discharge Form_

_Attending Physician: Dr. Gregory House_

_Summary of Case: Patient presented with..._

The contents of this sheet were not unusual. One of House's team usually filled it out at the end of a case, knowing House would never bother doing it himself. But this time, as Cuddy read through the detailed medical overview of House's latest case, she knew that he himself had filled it out. She knew his handwriting as well as she knew her own, having seen him scrawl down answers in college to writing symptoms up on a whiteboard in her hospital over twenty years later. The way he formed his G's, probably from writing his own name so much, was so distinctive to Cuddy, yet so unfamiliar looking on this sheet of paper. She read, re-read and then read again the medical details she already knew about House's case, but as she read, she wasn't seeing the words. She was seeing an apology, something that rarely came from his mouth, but occasionally in his actions. She set it down on the table after another read, and slumped back in her chair.

It was such a small gesture.

It made a difference.

Damn him.


End file.
